


Unspoken

by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Choose Your Own Adventure, Future Fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Open Mic Night, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Song Lyrics, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25162639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte
Summary: Based on thisvideo.In the original Tumblr version of this, I intentionally left it vague so people could choose the other half of the pairing.  My intent was for people to choose between either Peter or Derek since I never explicitly stated who received the text.Now, nearly two years later, I much prefer to explicitly state that it's Peter who shows up to surprise Stiles.  I do love my Sterek, but well, there's nowhere near enough Steter in the fandom....8/31/20 ETA: and while the above is still true,jacyevanssuggested I make this a "Choose Your Own Adventure" type of fic...sooooo...I added a second chapter for those that prefer Sterek.I took some liberties changing up the spoken parts of the video so it makes more sense for Stiles and the TW ‘Verse.Also, "The Way Station" is a Supernatural Sanctuary of sorts, so yeah…
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 11
Kudos: 95





	1. Steter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.

_“The Way Station. Thursday. 8pm. Don’t be late.”_

That’s all Scott’s text said. There was no response when he’d asked for clarification. Nicely vague, and yet…

Curiosity is a savage bitch, so here he is, crammed alongside a multitude of supernatural creatures in a dark bar that reeks of nervous energy and cheap booze, on Open Mic Night, of all things.

Peter lifts a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose and swallows back a frustrated growl. 

The bartender mistakes the gesture, and offers, “can I get you a drink?”

Peter gestures vaguely, “sure, why not?”

The bartender tilts her head with a small smile, “werewolf, right?”

“Yeah.” Peter is about to ask how she knew when the emcee calls out to the next performer.

_“Stiles, you’re up!”_

Peter spins to look toward the stage. 

Sure enough, there’s Stiles, making his way over to one of the barstools on the small stage. 

Stiles looks much older, of course, seeing as it’s been nearly fifteen years, but it’s Stiles nonetheless. His hair is noticeably longer, the ends curling slightly. There’s a faint shadow of a goatee on his face, but the more prominent change is the scar running from the corner of his left eye down to the corner of his mouth. Stiles runs a hand through his hair, thumb dragging over the scar absently, and almost as if by habit, he shifts his position, as he sits, to hide the left half of his face from the crowd.

The emcee moves the mic stand closer as he speaks, “Stiles is gonna sing an original song for y’all.” He turns to glare at the audience, “so be nice, ya bastards!”

The crowd laughs, clapping as the emcee makes his way offstage.

Stiles smiles at the young woman setting up next to him and reaches for the mic in front of him. “So,” Stiles clears his throat, “I wrote this song quite a few years ago. Getting the words out helped me work through some stuff.” He blows out a harsh breath, “this’ll be the first time I perform this for anyone.” Stiles laughs, “well, the first time in front of people who aren’t obligated to lie to me about how good it is, so yeah.”

Stiles strums a few chords. His eyes lift to glance at the young woman sitting next to him and mouths silently, _“ready?”_ At her nod, Stiles resumes his strumming, only to stop after a few seconds, clearly nervous. He mumbles, “actually, you know what? Hold on.”

Lydia and Kira’s familiar voices call out from the audience, _“wooooo!”_ Echoed by Scott’s enthusiastic call of, _“yeah!’_

Stiles laughs, his nose crinkling cutely, as he reaches for the water bottle on the barstool next to him, “it’ll get better after the sip of water, I promise.” He takes a drink and sets the bottle aside. With a small nod at the woman next to him, Stiles begins strumming again, his eyes drifting shut as he takes a deep breath to begin singing.

_“‘I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house // That don’t bother me’”_

Stiles’ voice is audibly shaking, and he pauses briefly to take another deep breath. 

The audience claps politely, calling out encouragement as Stiles resumes singing.

_“'I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out // I’m not afraid to cry every once in a while, even though going on with you gone still upsets me’”_

Stiles' lips curl in a smile in response to his friends’ enthusiastic cheering, but even as his nerves seem to settle out, the emotion in his voice is near-palpable.

_“’There are days every now and again I pretend I’m okay // but that’s not what gets me.’”_

Lydia and Kira let a chorus of loud “ _woos”_ out from their place in the audience. 

Scott audibly sings along with the first lyric of the chorus before calling out an enthusiastic, _“yeah!”_

_“’What hurts the most // Was being so close // Having so much to say // Watching you walk away // And never knowing // What could have been // Not seeing that loving you // Is what I was tryin’ to do’”_

A couple of the people in the audience call out between the chorus and the next verse. 

Lydia whistles, and calls out, _“yeah!”_

Stiles looks out towards his friend and mouths silently, _“love you,”_ before continuing in a steady voice. His eyes lift to ceiling as he sings. 

_“’It’s hard to deal with the pain of losin’ you everywhere I go’”_

Stiles’ shoulders shrug as he sings the next lyric.

_“’But I’m doin’ it // It’s hard to force that smile when I see our friends and I’m alone // It’s still harder // Getting up, getting dressed, livin’ with this regret // But I know if I could do it over // I would change, give away all the words that I saved in my heart // That I left unspoken’”_

At this point in the song, Stiles’ eyes are shut tightly, his face twisted with raw emotion as he begins the chorus again.

_“’But what hurts the most // Was being so close // Having so much to say’”_

Scott “woos” loudly from the crowd, and Lydia shouts wordlessly, bringing a tiny smile to Stiles’ lips as he sings.

_“’Watching you walk away // And never knowing // What could have been // Not seeing that loving you // Is what I was tryin’ to do’”_

Stiles shifts in his seat a bit to watch his companion play through her instrumental solo. He smiles, head nodding along with the music as he strums. 

_“’What hurts the most // Was being so close // Having so much to say’”_

A series of whistles and cheers sound through the crowd.

_“’Watching you walk away // And never knowing // What could have been // Not seeing that loving you // Is what I was tryin’ to do // That’s what I was tryin’ to do’”_

Stiles ducks his head when his voice cracks on the final lyric. He shakes his head as the last chords echo through the bar. His cheeks flush as the crowd erupts into applause, and when he lifts his head, there are tears in his eyes. Stiles gives the crowd a wave, lips curving into an embarrassed smile, as he wipes at his eyes.

Lydia is standing up, cheering louder than the rest of the crowd, and the way Stiles gazes at her is nothing if not beautiful.

Stiles stands to take a small bow, one arm lifting to signal for his companion to take a bow as well. He presses his fingertips to his lips and blows the other guitarist a kiss. Stiles crosses the stage to give her a hug, before making his way to the side of the stage.

Peter’s making his way through the crowd to the stage before he even realizes that he’s moved. 

Stiles is less than ten feet away when he looks up from where he’s speaking to his companion, and when he does, his mouth drops open in surprise.

“Stiles.”

“I. Wha-” Stiles swallows hard, “I, um.” Realization blossoms in his eyes and he visibly pales as looks back at the stage. His mouth falls open in utter horror and a tiny pained, “no,” makes it past his lips before they press together.

“It’s been a long time.”

Stiles’ face goes through a series of expressions, “yeah, it really has.”

“Your song was,” Peter takes a moment to duck his head to meet Stiles’ gaze. “It was beautiful.”

Stiles clears his throat, “thanks,” and makes a move to join his friends.

“Stiles wait,” Peter wraps his hand around Stiles’ bicep, but quickly releases it at the pointed look Stiles levels on his fingers, “please.”

“What do you want, Peter?”

“I just,” the words get stuck in Peter's throat.

“Yeah,” Stiles shakes his head, “that’s what I thought.”

“No, wait.”

“Why?!” Stiles spins to rage at him, “you disappear for fifteen years, Peter, and then when you show up, I’m supposed to just roll over for you?” He sneers angrily, “I don’t work that way! I'm not some lovesick little boy,” Stiles shakes his head, shoving past him, “not anymore.”

Peter watches him go, unsure of what do to. It’s Lydia that snaps him out of it by flicking at his ear with her fingertips.

“You do realize that he wants you to go after him, don’t you?” She gestures to the exit when Peter doesn’t move, “go!”

Peter rushes through the crowd, his senses reaching out in search of Stiles’ heartbeat as he pushes his way outside. He skids to a halt at the sight of Stiles standing there. “I thought you’d left.”

“I almost did.”

“Why,” for the first time in a very long time, butterflies flutter in Peter's stomach, “I mean, what changed your mind?”

Stiles laughs as he sings softly, _“’what hurts the most // is being so close // and having so much to say.’”_

Peter takes a step closer, “there’s a lot I have to say to you, too.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles tilts his head curiously, “like what?”

Peter's breath shudders out of him as he bridges the last few steps between them, _“so much.”_

Stiles arches a brow, “how about you tell me something I don’t know, then.”

A shaky hand lifts to cup Stiles’ cheek, “I love you.”

Stiles’ lips press together, and his heartbeat speeds up. He asks incredulously, “ _really_?”

Peter nods. “Yes, really.”

Stiles scoffs under his breath, “what took you so long, then?!”

“I don’t know, but I’ll spend the rest of our lives making up for it,” he vows as he leans in for a kiss. “How does that sound?”

Stiles inches closer, “it’s a start.”

When their lips meet, it’s almost too much, after all the time it’s taken them to get here, but it’s also absolutely perfect.


	2. Sterek

_“The Way Station. Thursday. 8pm. Don’t be late.”_

That’s all Scott’s text said. There was no response when he’d asked for clarification. Nicely vague, and yet…

Curiosity is a savage bitch, so here he is, crammed alongside a multitude of supernatural creatures in a dark bar that reeks of nervous energy and cheap booze, on Open Mic Night, of all things.

Derek lifts a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose and swallows back a frustrated growl. 

The bartender mistakes the gesture, and offers, “can I get you a drink?”

Derek gestures vaguely, “sure, why not?”

The bartender tilts her head with a small smile, “werewolf, right?”

“Yeah.” Derek is about to ask how she knew when the emcee calls out to the next performer.

_“Stiles, you’re up!”_

Derek spins to look toward the stage. 

Sure enough, there’s Stiles, making his way over to one of the barstools on the small stage. 

Stiles looks much older, of course, seeing as it’s been nearly fifteen years, but it’s Stiles nonetheless. His hair is noticeably longer, the ends curling slightly. There’s a faint shadow of a goatee on his face, but the more prominent change is the scar running from the corner of his left eye down to the corner of his mouth. Stiles runs a hand through his hair, thumb dragging over the scar absently, and almost as if by habit, he shifts his position, as he sits, to hide the left half of his face from the crowd.

The emcee moves the mic stand closer as he speaks, “Stiles is gonna sing an original song for y’all.” He turns to glare at the audience, “so be nice, ya bastards!”

The crowd laughs, clapping as the emcee makes his way offstage.

Stiles smiles at the young woman setting up next to him and reaches for the mic in front of him. “So,” Stiles clears his throat, “I wrote this song quite a few years ago. Getting the words out helped me work through some stuff.” He blows out a harsh breath, “this’ll be the first time I perform this for anyone.” Stiles laughs, “well, the first time in front of people who aren’t obligated to lie to me about how good it is, so yeah.”

Stiles strums a few chords. His eyes lift to glance at the young woman sitting next to him and mouths silently, _“ready?”_ At her nod, Stiles resumes his strumming, only to stop after a few seconds, clearly nervous. He mumbles, “actually, you know what? Hold on.”

Lydia and Kira’s familiar voices call out from the audience, _“wooooo!”_ Echoed by Scott’s enthusiastic call of, _“yeah!’_

Stiles laughs, his nose crinkling cutely, as he reaches for the water bottle on the barstool next to him, “it’ll get better after the sip of water, I promise.” He takes a drink and sets the bottle aside. With a small nod at the woman next to him, Stiles begins strumming again, his eyes drifting shut as he takes a deep breath to begin singing.

_“‘I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house // That don’t bother me’”_

Stiles’ voice is audibly shaking, and he pauses briefly to take another deep breath. 

The audience claps politely, calling out encouragement as Stiles resumes singing.

_“'I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out // I’m not afraid to cry every once in a while, even though going on with you gone still upsets me’”_

Stiles' lips curl in a smile in response to his friends’ enthusiastic cheering, but even as his nerves seem to settle out, the emotion in his voice is near-palpable.

_“’There are days every now and again I pretend I’m okay // but that’s not what gets me.’”_

Lydia and Kira let a chorus of loud “ _woos”_ out from their place in the audience. 

Scott audibly sings along with the first lyric of the chorus before calling out an enthusiastic, _“yeah!”_

_“’What hurts the most // Was being so close // Having so much to say // Watching you walk away // And never knowing // What could have been // Not seeing that loving you // Is what I was tryin’ to do’”_

A couple of the people in the audience call out between the chorus and the next verse. 

Lydia whistles, and calls out, _“yeah!”_

Stiles looks out towards his friend and mouths silently, _“love you,”_ before continuing in a steady voice. His eyes lift to ceiling as he sings. 

_“’It’s hard to deal with the pain of losin’ you everywhere I go’”_

Stiles’ shoulders shrug as he sings the next lyric.

_“’But I’m doin’ it // It’s hard to force that smile when I see our friends and I’m alone // It’s still harder // Getting up, getting dressed, livin’ with this regret // But I know if I could do it over // I would change, give away all the words that I saved in my heart // That I left unspoken’”_

At this point in the song, Stiles’ eyes are shut tightly, his face twisted with raw emotion as he begins the chorus again.

_“’But what hurts the most // Was being so close // Having so much to say’”_

Scott “woos” loudly from the crowd, and Lydia shouts wordlessly, bringing a tiny smile to Stiles’ lips as he sings.

_“’Watching you walk away // And never knowing // What could have been // Not seeing that loving you // Is what I was tryin’ to do’”_

Stiles shifts in his seat a bit to watch his companion play through her instrumental solo. He smiles, head nodding along with the music as he strums. 

_“’What hurts the most // Was being so close // Having so much to say’”_

A series of whistles and cheers sound through the crowd.

_“’Watching you walk away // And never knowing // What could have been // Not seeing that loving you // Is what I was tryin’ to do // That’s what I was tryin’ to do’”_

Stiles ducks his head when his voice cracks on the final lyric. He shakes his head as the last chords echo through the bar. His cheeks flush as the crowd erupts into applause, and when he lifts his head, there are tears in his eyes. Stiles gives the crowd a wave, lips curving into an embarrassed smile, as he wipes at his eyes.

Lydia is standing up, cheering louder than the rest of the crowd, and the way Stiles gazes at her is nothing if not beautiful.

Stiles stands to take a small bow, one arm lifting to signal for his companion to take a bow as well. He presses his fingertips to his lips and blows the other guitarist a kiss. Stiles crosses the stage to give her a hug, before making his way to the side of the stage.

Derek's making his way through the crowd to the stage before he even realizes that he’s moved. 

Stiles is less than ten feet away when he looks up from where he’s speaking to his companion, and when he does, his mouth drops open in surprise.

“Stiles.”

“I. Wha-” Stiles swallows hard, “I, um.” Realization blossoms in his eyes and he visibly pales as looks back at the stage. His mouth falls open in utter horror and a tiny pained, “no,” makes it past his lips before they press together.

“It’s been a long time.”

Stiles’ face goes through a series of expressions, “yeah, it really has.”

“Your song was,” Derek takes a moment to duck his head to meet Stiles’ gaze. “It was beautiful.”

Stiles clears his throat, “thanks,” and makes a move to join his friends.

“Stiles wait,” Derek wraps his hand around Stiles’ bicep, but quickly releases it at the pointed look Stiles levels on his fingers, “please.”

“What do you want, Derek?”

“I just,” the words get stuck in Derek's throat.

“Yeah,” Stiles shakes his head, “that’s what I thought.”

“No, wait.”

“Why?!” Stiles spins to rage at him, “you disappear for fifteen years, Derek, and then when you show up, I’m supposed to just roll over for you?” He sneers angrily, “I don’t work that way! I'm not some lovesick little boy,” Stiles shakes his head, shoving past him, “not anymore.”

Derek watches him go, unsure of what do to. It’s Lydia that snaps him out of it by flicking at his ear with her fingertips.

“You do realize that he wants you to go after him, don’t you?” She gestures to the exit when Derek doesn’t move, “go!”

Derek rushes through the crowd, his senses reaching out in search of Stiles’ heartbeat as he pushes his way outside. He skids to a halt at the sight of Stiles standing there. “I thought you’d left.”

“I almost did.”

“Why,” for the first time in a very long time, butterflies flutter in Derek's stomach, “I mean, what changed your mind?”

Stiles laughs as he sings softly, _“’what hurts the most // is being so close // and having so much to say.’”_

Derek takes a step closer, “there’s a lot I have to say to you, too.”

“Oh yeah?” Stiles tilts his head curiously, “like what?”

Derek's breath shudders out of him as he bridges the last few steps between them, _“so much.”_

Stiles arches a brow, “how about you tell me something I don’t know, then.”

A shaky hand lifts to cup Stiles’ cheek, “I love you.”

Stiles’ lips press together, and his heartbeat speeds up. He asks incredulously, “ _really_?”

Derek nods. “Yes, really.”

Stiles scoffs under his breath, “what took you so long, then?!”

“I don’t know, but I’ll spend the rest of our lives making up for it,” he vows as he leans in for a kiss. “How does that sound?”

Stiles inches closer, “it’s a start.”

When their lips meet, it’s almost too much, after all the time it’s taken them to get here, but it’s also absolutely perfect.


End file.
